


Rome

by Daegaer



Series: Mars Assassins [21]
Category: Fix Bay'nets - George Manville Fenn, Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Archaeology, Assassins & Hitmen, Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Psychic Abilities, Victorian Attitudes, Victorian Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-05
Updated: 2008-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schwarz find someone they've been looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rome

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Viridian5's birthday.

"Shall you force me to squeeze through narrow, dank passages _again_?" cried Schuldig. "This suit is new, Crawford. _New_." He cast an admiring glance downwards upon his own form, thinking that the Italian style made him look very fine indeed, and that it would be a shame to spoil Crawford's gift so very soon. "If but one single drop of foetid water fell upon this hat," he continued, seizing the aforenamed item of clothing from his head, "I should be desolate!"

"Come now," said Crawford. "Who said anything of dank passages? The monks show catacombs very like to these to travellers, do they not?"

"To foolish travellers," said Schuldig, "Who do not fear for their hats." He turned a little so the sun – so much milder to those whose rays it touched here than its harsh blows to persons on Mars - would catch his hair more brightly, liking the thoughts that ran in Crawford's mind as he watched the play of light upon his friend's form. "And it would offend Farfarello, to go into such a foolish place."

"It might, at that," said Farfarello, peering cautiously around the hoardings behind which they were secreted. "We're still unobserved. You go ahead, I'll stay out here. Perhaps I will have a little walk."

"Farfarello," said Crawford patiently, "I am not leaving you by yourself in the Vatican on a Sunday." He looked at Schuldig sternly, as if to say, _Do not encourage him._

"Do the monks show these passages?" asked Nagi, peering down into the dark hole. "What does that sign say?" he asked further, pointing to one side.

"It says, 'Danger. Keep Out' and 'Entrance to authorised persons only'," said Crawford. "These passages are not for the public to see, Nagi."

"Because," muttered Schuldig, "They are foetid and dank."

"Because," said Crawford, "They are but newly uncovered and scholars wish to discover their mysteries before they become simple sights for curious fools."

"Crawford," said Farfarello. "If you wish me to remain inconspicuous, let us not remain here for too long." He ruffled Nagi's hair, continuing, "Is it not unfair that he should deny boys their fun?"

Nagi smiled, then seized Crawford's hand with boyish enthusiasm, lightening the man's mood by his fervour. "Let me go down, Crawford!" he cried. "I don't mind getting dirty, and then Schuldig will remain unsullied!"

"No, no!" laughed Crawford as the lad gazed at him pleadingly. "It is Schuldig's place and he would be sorry not to go. Indulge him in this, Nagi. He knows well it is he that must go, and hopes only to be spoilt afterwards."

"Ach," ejaculated Schuldig in irritation, feeling it was a poor show to be laughed at. He thrust his hat at Nagi and glared at the dark hole into which he must venture. He accepted a candle from Crawford and lit it. "I will expect a very fine dinner tonight and the opera," he said, and picked his way down carefully, noting where antiquarians had laid their tools ready for the new day. "What fools, to lose a day's work!" he thought. "I suppose their clerical paymasters would feel it unbecoming to sponsor work upon their Sabbath." He crept along, cursing in his mind all the makers of tunnels both ancient and modern, on every world. He was disgusted indeed to realise that he understood the cryptic markings in a notebook he picked up, feeling that he should by now really have recovered from his own exposure to antiquarianism. Tossing it aside he stood in silence, his head cocked as if he heard some noise inaudible to the ear. Satisfied, he strode down a side passage, noting at last with his natural senses the faint sounds of someone at work. He blew out the candle and moved carefully and quietly, coming at last to what seemed a shallow alcove in the side of the passage. Crouched down by a pile of earth, illuminated by a lantern's beams, was a young man much his own age. This fellow was dressed in his shirt-sleeves, his jacket cast to one side carelessly, and he had in his hands a stone box of a type Schuldig had never seen before, and about which he cared not a jot. The man's eyes were closed, and his face set in concentration, as if he examined it better with shut eyelids than with open.

Schuldig cleared his throat loudly, and the man's eyes flew open, the expression of suspicion and alarm on his face turning in the blink of an eye to one of mild innocence. Schuldig grinned as the man stared at him, honest confusion replacing the false look of the simple scholar. He waited till the man's eyes began to widen in recognition, then stepped fully into the light, speaking before the man's ejaculation could cross his lips.

" _Guten Tag_ , Antoine. I think we should talk."


End file.
